Miserable School Life
by I.O.U.Apples
Summary: This is a story of the lives of various Sherlock characters in St Moss boarding school. They try and get through every trial and tribulation thrown at them.
1. Chapter 1

**This is a story that I'm currently still writing. I hope you guys will enjoy it :3**

**I OWN NOTHING.**

Bored. Jim was always bored. He looked around his small, compact room. There wasn't much inside, just a few pieces of furniture. He never did like his room. It held memories that he'd rather forget. His childhood hadn't exactly been easy. Jim's father was an alcoholic and had abused him and his mother on several occasions. He shuddered at the recurring thought of his father hitting him repeatedly. But he wasn't a problem anymore. Jim had taken care of that. Came home drunk they said. Fallen down the stairs they said. A smile crept on his face as he remembered how gleeful he was after pushing that drunken sod to his "untimely" death.

Unfortunately his first day of boarding school was rolling up at a fast pace. Tomorrow he would be stuck in a room with some boring cretin for a whole term. He groaned into his pillow.

"Jimmy dear! Are you alright?" His mum, Claire called from the stairs. After she walked in on him bleeding to death after cutting himself, she made a habit out of checking on him.

"Fine mum!" He snapped. She was a weak woman from being beaten down by her husband so much. Jim hated people that were weak. He rolled over in frustration and fell into a tense, uncomfortable sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**This story takes forever to write. I currently have bad writer's block. OWWWW.**

It felt like he'd only had a few minutes of sleep before he was up, dressed and walking to school. It was cold and dreary. Orange, autumn leaves were drifting down from the various trees around Jim. He sighed at how boring and simple they were. Footsteps were drawing closer to him. They were fast too. Suddenly he was pushed over.

"Fag!" The perpetrator jeered before clearing off.

"Simpleton." Jim growled under his breath.

He stood up and brushed the dirt off his brand new uniform. A second set of footsteps were heard but this time they were much lighter than the last.

"Are you ok?!" Said a high, girly voice. She could be useful.

"O-oh I'm fine, yeah." He said in a soft tone. Jim looked at her intensely. She had light brown hair and looked a little...plain.

"My name's Molly. Molly Hooper." She started to blush under his gaze.

"Jim Moriarty. Hi." He extended a hand towards her. She hesitated before shaking it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Gotta love Jim pretending to be Jim...from IT.**

**JIMCEPTION**

"So...um...do you know anyone at St Moss?" She asked. Molly was obviously trying her best to not reveal her attraction to Jim.

"No I don't. Although I met this very pretty girl today." Molly started to look disappointed. She looked down at the ground with a melancholic expression.  
"Oh...what's her name?" Her lack of interest was evident.  
"Molly Hooper." He said with a grin. Her eyes widened in surprise and she gasped. Jim feigned mock surprise.  
"Wow...umm...thanks." She had gone a deep shade of red. He grabbed both of her hands and looked down, trying to act like a shy teenager.  
"Y-you have nice eyes!" He blurted out at a rapid speed.  
"Jim...we barely know each other!" She exclaimed. He raised one eyebrow.  
"C'mon take a risk." He said in a whiny tone. And before she could reply, he kissed her on the cheek. It was very brief and afterwards he leaned in towards her ear and whispered,  
"There's no rush."


	4. Chapter 4

All too soon they were at school. Jim and Molly were holding hands.  
"Molly!" A large group of girls came running over to her. She let go of Jim as she was pulled into a group hug.  
"Ooh! Molly who's this cutie?" One of them said and they all looked at him like he was a zoo animal.  
"This is Jim...my boyfriend." She beamed.  
"Aww! Yay! Good for you Molly!" Another friend said while pulling her in for another hug.  
"Have you kissed yet?!" As soon as the question was uttered, all of the girls squealed in anticipation. Molly stole a glance at Jim and found him already looking at her. She had gone a violent shade of magenta but before she could answer the pending question, Jim had turned her towards him and kissed her on the lips. It was short but meant the world to Molly as it was her first kiss. They gazed into each other's eyes and blocked out the joyful screams of the girls.

"Well, I'd better be off. I'll meet you later ok?" The girls gave a disappointed noise but nonetheless, Molly let him go. He strolled towards the large, oak doors and opened them with a creak. There was a small room in front of him which was the reception. An old woman glanced at him.  
"Name?" She snapped.  
"Jim Moriarty." He said. Noting the irritated tone she gave him. She typed rapidly on her computer.  
"You're in room 182b with Sherlock Holmes." She smiled wickedly before adding,  
"Good luck."


	5. Chapter 5

Jim quickly found block b. Then again it wasn't difficult as the building was huge. There were 50 rooms on each floor so he worked out that he was on the third floor. He wandered through an ugly, green door and was met with a flight of stairs just ahead of him. He sighed loudly and started on his adventure to room 182b  
Eventually he got there. He slowly opened the door to his new quarters. This so called "Sherlock" was extremely messy. There were books and various bits of paper everywhere.  
"Good morning, Mr Moriarty." A low voice spoke from behind a large pile of books.  
"Please, call me Jim." He replied curtly.  
Sherlock swiftly got up and advanced towards Jim.  
"Jim Moriarty. 5'8", 15 years old, you have bags under your eyes so not a lot of sleep but you're not acting as though you're exhausted. Why? Because you're used to being awake late at night. Something keeping you up. There are faint bruises on your arms that have been administered by someone with big hands as they're quite large. Man. Obviously. So father? Faint stench of alcohol on your clothes suggests yes, older male most likely father. Also mark of lipstick on your forehead, mother's place of kissing normally. She cares about you a lot. So alcoholic, child beating father. Judging by the faintness of the bruises, he's not around. Your mother is weak because of this. How do I know she's weak? Well. Any mother who's still around after that trauma will no doubt be weak and more protective over you." Sherlock stared at Jim, waiting for a reaction. But even after that speech, Jim's expression remained the same.

"Anything else?" Jim replied, sounding bored.

"You were kept up at night because of arguments between your alcohol induced father and weak mother. No doubt she's been beaten physically too. Also judging by the cuts on your elbows you fell over this morning. Your lips are a little red and I can see some lip gloss on them. You have a girlfriend. Miss Molly Hooper if I'm not mistaken."  
Jim still stared at him with no emotion.  
"Do you talk much?" Sherlock queried. Jim yawned.  
"You know, that's a neat little trick you have there. Wonderful. Truly wonderful, awfully wonderful blah blah." He cocked his head to the side a little bit and licked his lips before adding,  
"But that's just a novelty. Amazing the first time but boring after a while. So don't get all excited at the thought of me being in awe of you..." He leaned in towards Sherlock's ear  
"Because I won't be." He hissed.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at him before going back to his laptop. Jim flopped down onto his bed and stared at the white ceiling above him. He opened his bag and took out a pile of books. Which he then proceeded to throw at the large pile of books located on Sherlock's side. He was attempting to knock them down, which he did on the first throw. They fell with a loud crash.  
"Can't you do anything useful?" Sherlock sighed.  
"Aw, don't be like that Sherly!" Jim said in a sweet, sickly tone.  
"Don't call me that!" He barked, getting more agitated by the second.  
"Ooh! Hit a nerve have I?" He replied with a toothy grin. Sherlock clenched his fists.  
"Simpleton." He snarled.

Jim's smile vanished and was replaced with a sinister glare directed at Sherlock.  
"Watch it."  
"Or what?" The question hung in the air for a few seconds before Jim launched himself off the bed, grabbed Sherlock's collar and slammed him against the wall.  
"Or, I'll kill you. Right now. But...it would be such a waste." He traced a line down the side of Sherlock's face with his index finger.


End file.
